


Culinary Curiosities

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 10:49:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18798844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Zeke wants to try cooking food with Brighid's flames.





	Culinary Curiosities

**Author's Note:**

> more dumb shenanigans

She hears Zeke sneaking up before he’s within arm’s length. 

_Anyone_ would have heard him, though, with the way his boots noisily drag through the dry grass. But Brighid doesn’t turn around just yet, deciding that she’d set his coat ablaze just to teach him a lesson if he tries anything funny. But no sudden shout or anything of the sort comes. A shadow falls over her. 

Brighid looks over her shoulder, then upwards, at the frying pan Zeke is holding above her head.

“… _What_ do you think you’re doing?”

Zeke flashes a cheeky grin. “Cooking. Want a bite?” 

Brighid musters the most withering glare she can manage and moves away, standing up. Zeke tries to say something in protest and extends the pan to follow her, but another hand stops him with an iron vice grip around his wrist. 

Mòrag looks just as displeased. “Is he bothering you, Brighid?”

“Indeed, he is.”

“Shall I take care of him in your stead?” 

“Whoa, no need to go that far!” Zeke pulls himself away, somewhere between a pout and a scowl. He hunches himself over the frying pan and pats the chunk of Ardun steak in it, apparently unconcerned that he’s getting his glove dirty. “I only needed to cook my steak. Nothing more!” 

“Brighid is our nation’s most treasured Blade. Not a stovetop.”

“Exactly. Try to use my flames to cook your food again, and I’ll burn the skin right off your bones,” Brighid adds.

“Ooh, is it that time of the evening to threaten Zeke?” Nia leans over from where she’d been sitting with Pandoria. “Don’t start without me.”

Zeke pats his steak more frantically. “No, it is not that time of the evening! Stay out of it!” 

“So what’d you do this time, Prince?” 

His explanation is somehow less graceless than his attempt to hold a frying pan over Brighid’s head. Something… about ether flames. And Brighid’s flames. And blue flames. And then a long segue into a very detailed recount of the culinary history of Tantal (which Nia highly suspects he’s making up on the spot) before he finishes his unnecessarily long speech with a cap about how… the food would probably taste better, if cooked with Brighid’s flames. 

Brighid looks absolutely _appalled_ by the suggestion, and ready to set him on fire. 

At the other side of the campfire, Mythra scoffs and rolls her eyes. _Yeah, right, as if Brighid’s flames could make food taste better._ But no one pays her any mind, except Poppi, who offers her a carrot.

“Actually…” Pandoria plants her hands on her hips, and tilts her head. “Yeah, I wonder. You think a Blade’s flames would make a difference in how food would turn out?”

“Why not just try it with Pyra, then? I bet she wouldn’t mind,” Nia says. 

Zeke gestures wildly, and nearly flips the steak right out of his frying pan. “But _blue flames!_ ” 

All the while, Mòrag had been quietly listening. She’s still listening as Brighid continues to threaten Zeke if he puts that frying pan anywhere near her, and Nia and Pandoria offer their own two cents which are neither helpful nor unhelpful to the situation. It’s a miracle that the steak hasn’t dropped onto the grass with how much Zeke is gesturing. 

She waits until there’s a brief window of silence before chiming in.

“Brighid.”

“—Yes, Lady Mòrag?”

“I can’t help but be curious…”

Everyone seems to inhale at once, holding in their words. They can vividly hear the crackling of the campfire, and the rustling of the Gormotti wilds, and whatever quiet conversation is happening at the opposite side where the others are eating their dinner. Rex and Tora seem completely oblivious to what’s going on, bless their hearts. 

Zeke scoffs and tilts his chin upward. 

And Brighid clasps her hands together, smiling brightly at Mòrag. “Of course— I’ll cook whatever you’d like, all with my own flames.”

“ _What?!_ ” Zeke cries out. “That’s beyond unfair!” 

“Ah, splendid,” Mòrag says, pointedly ignoring Zeke. “Perhaps some lightly roasted cabbage, then?”

“An excellent suggestion, Lady Mòrag! I’ll get right on that.” 

The two of them move away to busy themselves with gathering ingredients from their bags, leaving Zeke staring down at his uncooked steak with a sad, dejected gaze. Pandoria pats his shoulder. 

“There there, Prince. Want me to give it a zap of lightning?”

“No, thanks, Pandy. You’ll probably char it to an inedible crisp.”

“Hey! … Okay, well, you’re not _wrong._ ”

Nia leaves them just when the steak finally slips out of the frying pan and hits the ground, and Zeke falls to his knees with a mournful wail. How sad. Whatever. Wordlessly, she takes the plate of food that Mythra slides her way, and the two of them watch Brighid and Mòrag burn all their vegetables. 

They’ll have to stop by Torigoth tomorrow to buy some more food rations.


End file.
